


Starlight

by amavimus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Australia, Confessions, DNF, Dreams and Nightmares, Feelings Realization, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Road Trips, Unrequited Lust, dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28162554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amavimus/pseuds/amavimus
Summary: After an unfortunate accident leaves Dream unable to play Minecraft, his friends decide that they should take the opportunity to all meet each other, in real life, at last. As they take a road trip around an unfamiliar country, a desperate confession on a rainy afternoon forces Dream to question his feelings towards his good friend George. Long, empty roads, forgotten beaches, small towns, and feelings that spiral out of control.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs & Sapnap
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	1. Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> This work exists in a universe where COVID-19 does not exist, making travel possible.
> 
> This is my first time writing fanfiction ever, and I don't really know what I'm doing tbh, but I'm pretty excited (and also terrified) so I hope you enjoy :D I love dreamnotfound stuff, because I feel that they both have amazing chemistry (even just as friends), and I really really wanted to try writing about it.

Dream had never liked mornings. The feeling of sleep still holding him down, trying to block the sunlight that streamed through the gap in his curtains. He could hear smatterings of noise from the kitchen downstairs, and smell the gentle scent of pancakes wafting through the house. Patches was purring quietly, curled next to his stomach.

He didn’t remember if he’d dreamed. His back was slightly damp with sweat, and he could feel that his hair was tousled across his pillow. During the night, he’d kicked his comforter onto the floor, and one foot was hanging languidly over the side of the bed. He exhaled gently, blinking, rubbing the crusty sleep from his eyelids. 

Groggily, he reached over to turn the light on, but his hand was clumsy, and as it fumbled across the table, it hit a glass of water. The glass struck the wooden floor, tinkling as it shattered. Patches leapt up in shock and eyed Dream reproachfully, mewling.

“Shit.” 

Dream found the light switch and swung his head over the side of his bed to inspect the damage. There were shards of glass sprinkled all across the floor, twinkling up at him, menacingly. He nervously reached down and picked up the biggest piece. His blurry reflection gazed back at him for a minute, and he moved the glass gently, letting it catch the sunlight.

“Oh, come on!” He tossed the glass back onto the floor, exasperated. This was going to take forever to clean up. 

A slight breeze drifted through Dream’s curtains, making the golden light ripple. He shuffled down his bed, searching for a patch that was free from glass, and tenderly placed a foot onto the floor.

A pan clattered in the kitchen. 

Startled, Patches streaked from the bed. Dream reached out, trying to catch her before she fell onto the glittering floor, but he misjudged his movement. He teetered for a millisecond, one arm wrapped around his cat, the other outstretched, desperately trying to break the fall. 

There was a sharp crack.

-

Dream sat on the cool bathroom tiles, sucking air through his teeth. Pain was shooting through his right arm like a knife, and there was a steady flow of blood from where a shard of glass had stuck into his hand. His sister was standing over him, holding a bag of frozen peas and a concerned expression. 

“Clay! What the hell?” 

“I…” Dream muttered through clenched teeth. “My wrist...oh my...my wrist!”

His sister shook her head, and held out the bag of peas.

“Hey,” Dream looked up at her, incredulously. “What is that?”

“Ice. I couldn’t find an ice pack. Use these instead.”

Dream shook his head. “I’m not using peas!”

“You’ve got a cut on your hand, too, and it’s bleeding like hell.” Ignoring his protests, she pressed the frozen peas onto Dream’s wrist and piled a wad of tissues onto his bloodied hand. “What happened?”

“I dropped a glass and...and…I was trying to get out of bed, but Patches got startled, and I fell over trying to stop her from getting in the glass.”

His sister humphed. “Impressive.”

Dream glanced down at his body. There was already a bruise forming on his leg from where he’d collided with a bookshelf, and his hand was weeping blood. He vaguely remembered prising a shard out of his palm. He heard the gentle tread of his mother in the hallway, and then her calm voice announcing a visit to the doctor. 

“Do you reckon you can stand?” his sister asked, reaching down to help him onto his feet. Dream nodded, and clumsily stood up. Pain shot into his wrist and looked around, desperately trying to find something that would distract him.

His sister’s hair caught the light and he frowned slightly.

“What did you do to your hair?” 

“My wha-?” She flicked her head towards Dream for a second.

“It’s got blonde bits in it?” 

“They’re called highlights, Clay.” She sounded slightly ruffled as she watched Dream stagger from the bathroom. Dream paused, leaning against the wall and watched the sunlight dance on her strands.

“I liked it better when it was just normal.” He shrugged. “Since when has it been like that?”

Dream’s sister stopped. “Since last Wednesday? Didn’t you notice?”

Dream felt a pang of guilt and his cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m sorry that you have an issue with it, but you clearly don’t care enough about it to say anything about it until now.” Her eyes were glittering strangely.

“That’s not what I meant, I’m so-”

She grabbed the frozen peas and pressed them into Dream’s arm before stalking off down the stairs. Dream cursed lightly under his breath.

-

It was three, long hours before Dream finally sat down heavily in front of his monitor. Dread was pooling in his stomach, and a hot lump of frustration was forming in his throat. He glared at his swollen wrist, and the cream coloured bandage that covered it. A black gaming mouse sat useless and forlorn next to an equally useless computer.

“FUCK!” He swore violently, banging his uninjured hand onto the table. A discarded plate rattled, and Patches stared up at him, reproachfully. 

“Oh god,” he muttered, ashamed. “I’m sorry, kitty.” His eyes began to sting. “Oh god, Patches, what am I going to do?”

He blinked furiously. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. His wrist throbbed quietly, a constant reminder of his uselessness.

His phone buzzed. 

It was a text from George. _I’m gonna stream, wanna come on_?

Fumbling, he awkwardly typed out a reply with one hand. _Call me first_.

Seconds later, his phone began to sing. He answered, and quickly slid the phone in between his shoulder and ear, holding it in place with his cheek.

“Dream? What’s up?” George’s voice was playful and light. 

“Uh, a lot.” Dream sighed, and swallowed the tears. “I’ve sprained my wrist, and there’s a big cut on my hand too.”

“Dream!” George cried, reproachfully. “How’d you do that?”

“I, uh, long story.” He paused. “George, you know what this means, right?”

“Um,” George hesitated, and then giggled slightly. “You sprained your wrist?”

“George,” Dream lowered his voice, “I can’t use my mouse. I can’t play Minecraft. I can’t stream, I can’t use my fucking computer. I’m literally fucked.”

George inhaled, and when he spoke again, his voice had slid up an octave. “What!? For how long!?”

“I don’t know, okay?”

“Dream, we have a manhunt to record today!” George shrilled. “What do you mean you can’t play? Can’t you, like, ice it or something?”

“Ice it?” Dream scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, I can’t just ice it, George. This isn’t the school nurse.”

“Well, I don’t know!” George replied, indignantly, “But there’s gotta be something you can do? Surely?” His voice faded out into a desperate whisper. 

Dream exhaled heavily into the phone. “The doctor says it’ll take a good six to eight weeks to get better.”

“Oh,” George replied, his voice thick. 

“George, are you crying?” Dream exclaimed, surprised by his friend’s reaction. 

“No,” George said with a suspicious sniffle. “I have hayfever.”

“Mmm, okay.” Dream smiled to himself, blinking. “Take an antihistamine.”

“I will, I might go do that right now actually,” George muttered rapidly. “I’ll see you lat-”

“Don’t hang up, silly.” Dream laughed. “I’ll come on the Teamspeak while you stream.”

“Oh,” George sniffed again, sounding slightly relieved. “Oh, that’s good then...”

Dream chuckled.

-

“You sprained your wrist?” Sapnap exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Dream sighed, and began to explain how it had happened for what felt like the millionth time today. He’d tweeted a photo, and captioned it with I won’t be playing Minecraft for a while cause my hand is injured, which sparked a Twitter meltdown. _Dream_ , _Dream’s Wrist_ , and _#GetWellSoonDream_ had been trending on the app for the past few hours, and his mentions were flooded with concern and panic. 

The pain wasn’t getting much better. He’d taken some aspirin, and was using the ice as George had suggested. The frozen peas that his sister had brought up, as well as some frozen carrots and a couple of ice packs were discarded across his desk, warm and dripping after hours of being pressed to his wrist. He’d been sitting on his chair and talking to George, Sapnap, Karl and others while they played on the SMP, but his mind had been elsewhere, lost in the dread of weeks with nothing to do. 

His mind drifted to his sister. She’d come into his room only once since this morning, and only to deliver the pile of Chick-Fil-A that he’d ordered. She hadn’t said anything, even when Dream had thanked her and asked her how she was going. Guilt was pooling in his stomach, and he felt deeply ashamed that he hadn’t even paid enough attention to her to notice her new hair, let alone any of the other things that happened in her life. 

He watched the afternoon light move across his desk, illuminating the various posters that were messily stuck to the wall, and the cluster of family photographs. 

“Dream, Dream, Dream, DREAM, DREAM!”

Dream was snapped out of his daze by Karl’s yelping. He hurriedly sat up and switched back to the tab where George’s stream was running, watching his Minecraft character scuttling around the SMP.

“We should go on a road trip! While your hand is getting better!” George was talking excitedly, his words spilling out and tripping over each other. “You could come to the UK and we could go driving and see…”

“Wait - WHAT?!” Dream cried, blinking and sitting up straighter. “You want to go on a road trip?”

“Yeah he does,” Sapnap interjected. “Say yes, Dream.”

“Woah..Wha..Who..Whe...Wubabubaphuphuphuphub,” Dream spluttered. “Slow down, I haven’t been paying attention.”

“Oh come on, Dream.” Sapnap smirked. “ _Oh come on, now_.” 

“No, Sapnap, oh my god, stop.” Dream said while the other three erupted into shouts and shrieks. “George, no, George, you literally cannot drive, and I have a sprained wrist. How are we going to make that work?”

“Karl and Sapnap can come too!” His voice was high and airy, floating above the others. Dream flicked his eyes to George’s face cam in the corner of the screen. He was beaming, and his cheeks were flushed with excitement. His expression made Dream’s chest fill with a surprising warmth, and he shook himself, surprised.

“You could all come to America,” he suggested, picking up a pen and twirling it through the fingers of his uninjured hand. 

“Oi!” George cried. “We are not going to America - we’ll be shot!”

“No you won’t,” Dream laughed. “I promise you. We have Disneyland...”

“...and a Nickelodeon resort.” Sapnap snickered.

“Oooooh!” Karl squealed, “You and George could get in the hot tub.”

“Stop!” George cried shrilly, and the tone of his voice caught Dream off guard. It was high pitched and clear, like a siren, warning the others to not push the subject further. The conversation fumbled into silence, and Dream made a mental note to ask George about it later. 

“Where else could we go?” Karl asked, tentatively, breaking the sudden quiet. “Like, somewhere other than the US or UK…”

“Australia!” George exclaimed, “That’s, like, the middle ground.”

“Yeah…” Dream was still hesitant. He glanced at his bandaged arm. “Guys, I’m sure my wrist will feel better soon, I don’t think I need to go all the way to Aus-”

“No, no, NO!” Sapnap interrupted. “We can go. Get a vlog. For the fans.”

“Yeah, Dream,” Karl taunted. “We want to go, don’t spoil it.”

Dream carefully placed the pen down on the table.

“I’ll think about it.” he murmured.


	2. Empty Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream considers the offer of a trip to Australia with his friends, but the reaction from his mother throws him off guard, and forces him to start questioning the nature of his relationship with George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for this chapter
> 
> \- mild swearing
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read/left kudos/comments etc. on the last chapter. It really made my day, cause I was absolutely terrified about posting. I've also realised I write in British-English, which isn't consistent with Dream's character (being American), but I hope that's not too off-putting.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy :)

Dream loved family dinners. 

During the school holidays, his mother insisted that he come back to the family house, so that they could all spend time together “as a family”. His younger brother and sister would be there, and his older sister might even travel back from Massachusetts to spend time with them, even just for a weekend. Dream would move back into his old room, lined with football posters that were now hanging off the wall, and cluttered with old books, and dusty school trophies. He insisted on dragging all of his gaming equipment from his apartment to his mother’s house, even if he only intended to stay there for a few days. He always forgot to unpack it properly, and various bits and pieces covered his desk, with nothing connected. It was worthless now anyway.

This particular evening, they all crowded around the scratched wooden table, and passed around the pot of spaghetti and the packet of grated cheese. Patches wound her way between the chairs, rubbing against their legs, mewling gently. 

“How’s your wrist feeling, sweetie?” Dream’s mother asked, grinding some pepper on top of his spaghetti for him.

“Uh, it hurts a lot…” Dream responded, absently. “Thanks, that’ll do Mum.”

“How’d you do it again?” his older sister asked, studying him from over her wine glass.

“He fell out of bed!” his brother shrieked. “Clay fell out of bed and now he can’t play Minecraft.”

“Stop it, honey,” his mother interjected, patting his arm. 

“Uhh…” Dream swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden nerves that were fluttering in his chest. “Speaking of that…”

“You want to go to Australia.” his sister finished, tucking her highlighted hair behind her ear. “I saw the stream.”

“You want to go to Australia?” 

His mother sounded incredulous, and as Dream glanced over, she placed his fork down onto the table. “By yourself? Honey, you just sprained your wrist, do you really think that that’s a good idea?’

“No, no, no,” Dream stuttered hurriedly. “With George and Nick and Karl. A road trip.”

She was silent for a second. Dream bit his lip. 

His mother frowned. “You’re going to Australia with  _ George _ ?” 

“... _ and _ Nick  _ and _ Karl.” Dream finished firmly, trying to ignore the concern in his mother’s tone. His mind raced. _What's up with George?_

She shrugged and took another bite of her spaghetti.

“There’s lots of spiders in Australia, aren’t there?” His little brother stared up at him with widened eyes.

“Yeah, I think so…” Dream replied, watching his mother as she chewed her food. Her jaw was moving slowly, deliberately, and her brow was furrowed. He could see the freckles that were sprinkled on her arms, a reminder of years spent out in the sunshine. She swallowed carefully, and then moved her eyes back over to Dream’s.

“Clay...”

“What’s up, Mum?” 

The tone of her voice sent a shimmer of worry into Dream’s stomach, and made his hands begin to sweat lightly. 

She opened her mouth, as if she was preparing to make a big speech, but then she closed it. “Just be careful, okay? Don’t get yourself into anything you’re not ready for.”

She picked up her plate and walked over to the sink. Dream stared after her, confusion rushing through his head.

-

It was early evening when Dream decided to climb onto the roof. 

He used to do it often as a child, scrambling from the small window in his room, and lowering his feet out onto the terracotta tiles, before messily climbing onto the top. Now he was older, and his legs were longer, and he couldn’t quite squeeze through the gap in his window. His brother blamed it on his diet of Chick-Fil-A and Mountain Dew. Dream blamed it on the size of his muscles.

With his uninjured hand, he had slowly and clumsily dragged a ladder from the garden shed. It had clattered and rattled as he heaved it across the bumpy lawn, and his arm ached from the unexpected use. With immense difficulty, he leant it against the side of the house and clambered up.

The view was far more disappointing than he remembered. 

Suburbia rolled out in front of him, smudged with the orange blur from the streetlights. The interstate rumbled in the background, a long stream of red and white lights winding its way across the night. Sprinklers whirred on the too-green lawns of his neighbours, and the distant sounds of laughter drifted between the houses. A barbecue, perhaps.

His mother’s words nagged at his thoughts, sticking their little, spiky fingers into his brain and staying there, pestering him. Her concern, her shock, her confusion, and her cryptic words. He had tried to ask her about it after dinner, while she was washing up, but she had waved him off with a spray of soapy bubbles and a smile. 

He lay back against the tiles, watching the night sky unfold in front of him. The stars weren’t very bright here - the light from the city was brighter, and it dimmed the sky into merely a few, lonely pinpricks. The thought made Dream’s heart twist slightly, imagining all the little stars trying their best to shine, only to be swamped out by the orange glow from the massive city.

His thoughts trailed off, and he felt himself begin to slip in and out of a doze. The breeze tickled his forehead.

_ Bzz-Bzz _

Dream sat up so fast that he almost fell forward off the roof. His phone was vibrating in his pocket, and it had jolted him out of his gentle doze. Fumbling, he yanked it out of his pocket and stared blearily at the screen. It was now two in the morning, and George was ringing him.

“Hello,” Dream yawned into the phone, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Hey!” George exclaimed. His voice was slightly crackly, but Dream could hear the smile in his voice. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, erm, kinda.” Dream muttered. He was still disorientated, and his neck hurt sharply from the abrupt jerk. He adjusted his hoodie and settled back down into the tiles.

“Oh.” He sounded sleepy. “I just woke up too. How’s your wrist?”

“It hurts,” Dream began, “But that’s, like, what you’d expect.”

“Yeah…” George’s voice trailed off. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m actually on the roof, so I’m glad you woke me.”

“The what?” 

“The roof...my roof.”

“Why?” George giggled, before speaking seriously. “Have you thought any more about the trip?”

Dream shrugged, before remembering that George couldn’t see him do it. “I’m, like, not totally sure yet.”

“Aw, Dream, please?” George pleaded. 

Dream didn’t say anything. He started fiddling with a stray thread that hung out of his bandage. 

“Dream?”

“I don’t know man, it’s a long, long way. I haven’t gone that far, like, by myself before.”

“But you won’t be by yourself,” George said, and Dream could hear him pouting. “You’ll be with us.”

“I also have a sprained wrist. I’m getting a brace thing for it tomorrow - y’know, with velcro. I, like, won’t be able to move it.”

“We can make it work, Dream.”

Dream fell silent again. He watched as a lone, ginger cat padded out from underneath his neighbour’s car. He began to pull the elastic thread from his bandage. The pain in his wrist hummed. 

“Can you see anything?” George said, his voice having softened slightly.

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you on the roof?”

“Oh yeah, uhh, I can, like, see the lights from the city, and uhh,” he offered before pausing, letting his mind begin to wander. The silence was broken only by the crackling of Dream’s phone and the hum of distant traffic. He looked out over the glowing night sky, and frowned slightly. “I can barely see the stars.”

“Oh,” George replied. 

They sat in silence for a minute, while Dream continued staring upwards at the lifeless sky. 

“Do you think they’ll have more stars in Australia?” George mumbled while yawning softly.

“I mean, yeah?” The elastic thread began to come loose from the bandage, and Dream twirled it around his finger. “The light pollution here is, like, awful.”

“Mmm…” Shuffling sounds cracked through the phone, and Dream imagined George moving in his bed, perhaps pulling the blanket up, or turning over his pillow. That strange warmth that he felt earlier swelled in his chest again, and his heart thrummed. 

“What time is it there?” Dream asked. The elastic strand that he had pulled from the bandage was now wrapped tightly around his index finger, almost cutting his circulation.

“Just past six. I woke up early for some reason.”

“And you just decided to call me? Was I, like, the first person you thought of?” Dream began to taunt. “Oh George, what would the shippers say?”

George laughed gently. “Stop it, Dream.”

Dream smiled to himself. He enjoyed George’s quiet protests, tinged with embarrassment. Their friendship was so often laced with Dream’s incessant teasing, that they were almost a comfort to him. Something warm. Something safe. Something reliable.

A night bird called amidst the humming of the crickets. 

George had fallen silent on the other end of the line. Dream stayed there for a while, watching the sky, and listening to the slowing rhythm of George’s breaths. He must have fallen asleep again, his long fingers slowly releasing the phone onto the pillow beside his face, close enough for Dream to be able to hear his breathing.

Dream smiled to himself, and ended the call.

-

His wrist was beginning to hurt again. He’d almost forgotten the pain, distracted by George’s words and the starless night. Now, it was sharp and clear again, and the sudden movement as he climbed down the ladder made his eyes water.

He let himself into the house, and padded softly down the hallway, feeling his way in the dark. He only stopped when, for a second, he noticed a sliver of light spilling out from under his sister’s door. He turned, and placed his uninjured hand on the door, curious, before civility got the better of him and he knocked gently.

There was a moment of silence, before a muffled, barely audible “What?”.

Dream slowly opened the door and looked in at his sister. She was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, and holding her phone.

“I have to go,” she whispered into the phone, while shooting daggers at her brother. “I’ll talk to you later.”

With an aggressive sigh, she punched the screen of her phone and tossed it to one side. “Well?”

“Why are you awake?” Dream asked innocently, trying to suppress the tinge of annoyance at her reaction. 

“Why are  _ you _ awake?” she retorted.

“I was on a phone call.”

“So was I. So what’s your problem?” She flicked her hair, almost as if to emphasise the highlights. The guilt stung. 

“Who were you calling? Do you have a boyfriend or something?” Dream frowned, watching her expression. Her eyes narrowed.

“No,” she said, before repeating him, mockingly. “Who were you calling? Do  _ you  _ have a boyfriend or something?”

“Oh my god!” Dream cried, exasperated. “I was calling George, and I was just wondering why…”

“So you were calling your boyfriend then.” Her eyes glinted. “Liar.”

“What the hell? George is  _ not  _ my boyfriend.” He took a cautious step backwards, trying to calm her down. “I’m really sorry about not noticing your hair… I really, really am.”

She shrugged and began to inspect her nails, picking at the cuticles. “If he isn’t your boyfriend, why were you calling him at two in the morning?”

“Jesus Christ! What’s your problem?” His head began to warm.

She looked up from her cuticles. “Aren’t you guys going to Australia together?” 

“That’s… ”

And then to his surprise, she tossed her head back, and started to laugh.

Dream stared incredulously. “Seriously?”

“I’m just teasing,” she giggled, “Calm down Clay, oh my god. And be quiet, you’ll wake Mum”

“Oh, come on. That wasn’t funny.” he muttered, before walking over and sitting down on the end of her bed.

“You okay?”

“What do you think Mum was talking about at dinner?”   


“Oh,” she shrugged, and patted the patch of bed next to her. “Come sit up here.”

Dream shuffled across the pale blue blanket, and curled his feet up. His sister reached out and gently wrapped her arm around him. “How’s your wrist, bud?”

“Fucking sore.” Dream muttered. 

She smiled. “It must be bad then, if you’re swearing. You never swear.”

“I do sometimes.”

“Not in front of me.” she smiled, watching his face carefully.

“Well,” Dream began, “I’ve, like, got to set a good example for my tiny-little-itty-bitty sister…”

“I’m not that small!”

Dream chuckled and leant his head against hers. “Seriously though, what do you think Mum meant?”

“Uhm, I think she’s worried about you Clay,” she began, speaking slowly and deliberately. Dream could hear her choosing her words carefully. “I don’t know why, but I think she thinks, oh, I don’t know - but she’s worried about whether you’re going to be okay.”

“To do with George?” He pressed her, searching for something that would calm his unexplained nerves and confusion.

“Yeah…” she murmured, squeezing her brother’s arm. “Yeah, you and George, but also you're going to a totally new country, out of the blue, with a sprained wrist...I mean, I’m worried.”

“But...why George? What does she think?”

“I don’t know what she thinks, and I’m sure it’s nothing…” Her voice trailed off with her thoughts, before she snapped back suddenly, her voice now brisk. “Hey look, it’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Yeah…” Dream went to put weight on his arm to help him stand, but the pain burned. “ _ Fuck.” _

“Watch your wrist, silly.”

“Yeah…” Dream grimaced. “G’night.”

“I’m still mad about the hair though,” she called after him. “Sleep well, Clay!”

Dream shook his head, and gently closed her bedroom door before continuing down the hallway to his room. He lay down heavily in his bed, which was still unmade from the morning. A fresh glass of water stood next to his lamp. Dream glared at it, as if challenging it to knock to the floor as well and sprain his other wrist. It didn’t move.

Feeling slightly nervous, he picked up his phone and stared at the lockscreen. It was empty, free of notifications, and the faces of his family on his wallpaper stared back at him. He held the phone up to his face and unlocked it, and began typing an awkward, one-handed message to George. 

_ Hey _

The little typing bubbles appeared almost immediately.

_ Hi _ , followed almost immediately by  _ soz i fell asleep _

Dream chucked to himself.  _ lol nice _

He stared up at the ceiling for a second, his mother’s concerned words rolling around in his head. He blinked and shook himself, trying to clear the butterflies that had suddenly swarmed in his chest. 

He resumed typing.  _ George ive thought about it _

Again, the reply was almost instantaneous.

_ are u going to come? _

_ Yeah. I’m coming to Australia. _

And, without waiting for the reply, he squeezed the button on the side of his phone, and felt it lock with a gentle click. The screen went black.

He threw his head back onto the pillow. The gentle aching in his wrist and the flickering butterflies gave way to a restless sleep, filled with fragmented dreams. Dreams that carried him to a rainy gas station, a sunlit beach, George’s smile, and a deep, quiet feeling of unease. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome. I'll try and write a bit quicker next time :)
> 
> Hope you all had a lovely holiday/Christmas/whatever you celebrate, and Happy New Year if I don't post before then.


	3. Dragonflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream finally makes it to Australia, but a sleepless flight has left him plagued by unsettling dreams. He's exhausted, in pain, and overwhelmed by unfamiliarity, but a desperate confession in the middle of a storm causes his world to shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading the previous chapters. They're now finally into Australia, which is a relief, cause that's something I can write about.
> 
> There's some mild swearing in this chapter. 
> 
> Also, I do have a twitter if you'd like to follow me — @amavimuswrites

The gentle shuddering of the plane jolted Dream out of his shallow sleep. He blinked quickly and sat up, looking around at the silent cabin. It was dark, save the glow of the sign that pointed to the exits, and the bright beam from someone’s reading light. The sound of sleeping strangers was suffocating.

He stretched slightly, and gripped the armrest of his seat, trying to quash the nerves that came from the shaking plane. His wrist was aching again. He fumbled around and dug out his phone, holding down the power button to switch it on. The white light of the starting screen flashed out, and he quickly pressed it into his chest, trying to hide the glow. The woman sleeping next to him grunted and shielded her eyes. Dream cursed inwardly. 

He clumsily unbuckled his seatbelt with his uninjured hand, and untangled himself from the grey blanket that the smiling flight attendant had provided. It smelt slightly funny, and it made his skin scratch. He glanced at the time on his phone. He estimated six long hours would have to roll by before the plane finally landed.  _ That’s if it ever does _ , he thought to himself as it jolted again.

The plane was filled with rows upon rows of sleeping bodies. A movie was playing on a screen somewhere, and the colours were still flickering over the face of the person supposed to be watching it. Someone snored loudly, coughing and spluttering. The distant scream of a baby could be heard from further up the plane. He pitied the parents.

Dream’s mind began to wander, as it often did, tracing its way back to the events of the day before. His mother had cried slightly, and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. She’d bustled around him like a hen, packing his suitcase for him, buying toothpaste and shampoo, putting the passport in a plastic bag. His younger sister had simply pecked him on the cheek and hidden away in her room, on the phone with someone, again. He wondered who it was. 

The car trip had been silent, broken only by his mother’s sniffles and her teary whispers about “staying safe” and “remembering to brush his teeth”. Dream hadn’t paid much attention — his mind had been humming, filled with nerves and anticipation, wondering what it would be like to finally meet his friends.

At the airport, she’d stuffed an envelope into his fist, saying it was a letter. Bewildered, he’d assured her that he would only be gone for a few weeks, and that she didn’t need to give him a letter or anything.

_ Open it when you need to _ , she’d whispered into his ear, before giving him one last hug and a sniffly wave. 

The letter was shoved down into his backpack; Dream didn’t know exactly where. 

Someone moved past him in the aisle, padding down towards the bathroom. Dream rolled over, and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to fall asleep. The steady undercurrent of the engines and the gentle shivering of the plane rocked him gently, tipping him into a fitful doze.

The plane roared south, over the sea, towards Melbourne.

—

The heat hit Dream like a wall. He stumbled out of the plane, blinking at the sudden brightness. The air seemed to be glowing. Cicadas screamed, and the ground shimmered like water. 

He followed the other passengers as they walked in a skinny line, ant-like, towards the main building. A flight attendant smiled at him, waving him through, her red mouth stretching across her lipstick-stained teeth. Her uniform looked too hot, too constricting, too heavy for the heat that pressed down on them.

He fumbled in his pocket, checking, rechecking.  _ Phone, passport, documents, wallet. _

Anticipation thrummed through him. He looked at his phone, again, again, re-reading the messages that they had been sending each other. Karl, Sapnap and George had arrived a few days earlier, and according to the scrambling of notifications, they were waiting outside the “spinny thing that the bags come out on”. 

_ Phone, passport, documents, wallet. He wasn’t forgetting anything else, was he? Did he leave something on the plane? _

The man in front of him let out a startled “ _ oof!” _ as Dream collided with him. He muttered a hasty apology and scurried past, his head flicking, spinning, trying to keep up with a myriad of new sounds, sights and smells. 

_ Phone, passport, documents, wallet. _

_ Ive kanded _ . His fingers shook slightly as he sent the text message. He didn’t bother to correct the typo.

_ OMG HURRRRRRY UPPPPPPPP _ !!!!!!!!!!!!!! Karl’s reply was instantaneous. 

He jittered his way through the customs line, his mind flashing from one thought to another. The man at the desk frowned at him while he analysed his face, asking innocent-sounding questions about his plans, his reasons for travel, before welcoming him to Melbourne.

The neon lights of the airport seemed to be shining too bright. A toddler screamed about something while a woman shushed him. He dangled from her wrist, trying to get her attention while she spoke to a security official. She seemed panicked. He wondered if they were going to be okay.

_ Phone, passport, documents, wallet. _

Dream pressed his way through the writhing mass of bodies. Fragments of conversation, laughs, the clacking of shoes on a tiled floor, the smooth rumble of suitcase wheels. Their voices were different, broader, slacker — distinctly un-American. 

He rounded a corner and stopped.

A child ran past him and sprinted into the arms of her father, flinging her chubby arms around his neck. Her mother followed, smiling.

A man and a woman held each other in a long, tight, kiss.

A man in a suit walked past, briskly muttering unintelligible words into a phone. 

Without warning, something collided with him and he stumbled back, the wind knocked out of his stomach. 

“OH MY GOD!” Karl Jacobs screeched into his ear. “IT’S YOU!”

Dream let out a gasp. “Karl?”

“Yeeee!” The fluffy-haired man squealed, without releasing him. “Is that  _ Clay Dream _ ?”

“Oh my god. Why are you so short?”

“You—” 

Karl was cut off by another voice. “Move, Karl, I want to see him!”

Sapnap prised Karl’s arms away and then engulfed Dream. Overwhelmed, Dream hugged his friend, breathing deeply, and trying to blink away the sparkling of tears that had sprung up in his eyes. 

They released each other with a sniffle. Dream wiped his cheeks, embarrassed, and turned, searching for another face. 

He was standing a few metres away, holding a backpack and shyly smiling. They locked eyes instantly, and he took a nervous step forward, and then another, and another, until they were standing only centimetres from each other. The dark-haired man took a deep breath.

It felt like the longest hug of his life.

George’s body trembled in his arms. Dream could feel his bones through his thin shirt as he held him, pressing his face into the warm fuzz of his hair. He closed his eyes. George sniffed loudly, and Dream felt a damp spot bloom on his chest. He pulled him even closer. It felt like time had stopped.

It seemed like forever before they slowly released each other, and Dream grinned at his friend. His face was now red and blotchy, and he was watching Dream nervously. 

“You’re even smaller than Karl.” Dream remarked, shrugging. 

“What the he-  _ Dream _ !” George exclaimed, indignantly, before returning to the hug. Karl and Sapnap joined them, and they clung to each other, an island in a sea of strangers, in a strange new land.

-

“Hey, how’s your wrist feeling?” Karl asked as they walked out into the carpark. 

“Uhh, still pretty sore.” Dream replied, trying to stifle a yawn. “What’s on the plan for today?”

“So, we kinda already looked at Melbourne…” Karl began awkwardly, flicking his gaze towards Dream’s.

“Oh,” Dream replied. “You did?”

“Yeah, I mean, we didn’t really have anything else to do sooo—” Karl’s voice trailed off, and he made a face. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, we were planning to start driving today.” Sapnap continued, echoing Karl’s apologetic tone. 

“Where are we even driving to?” Dream asked, scratching his face and trying to bite back yet another yawn.

“Canberra. It’s six hours.” George said. “You can sleep in the car if you want.”

Dream nodded. He didn’t even care that much; he just wanted to be able to collapse into a bed somewhere, anywhere. The tiredness was making him queasy and his skin itched. He felt something warm in his hand, and looked down to see George tentatively squeezing his fingers. He grinned at the smaller man, who turned his eyes away, shy.

They continued walking through the bustling carpark, searching through the lines and lines of unfamiliar cars. Sapnap was muttering under his breath about Australians being rude. Karl was pirouetting like a ballerina, flapping his arms in the air like some kind of lopsided bird. A pair of dragonflies whizzed past, dancing through the lantana bushes. The sun beat down through the shade sails. The bitumen shimmered. 

“Jesus, why is it so hot? It’s, like, January.” Dream grumbled, trying to unstick his shirt.

“That’s summer here, idiot.” Sapnap chuckled. “We’re on the other side of the world now.”

“I think they said it’s like a heatwave…” George mused.

“Ha ha it’s a  _ heatwave,  _ George _ …”  _ Sapnap teased, poking his friend lightly in the back. 

George flushed, and suddenly let go of Dream’s fingers. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, George.” Dream chimed in. “Don’t get too close or I’ll start melting you.”

“Guys, stop!”

“Aww, poor Gogy’s embarrassed!” Sapnap was smiling, watching George squirm uncomfortably. “Did it hit a little too close to home?”

“No...what...guys, drop it.” George snipped, before walking off briskly.

The remaining three watched him. 

“What’s up with him?” Karl asked, glancing at the other two for reassurance. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Dream responded, patting his friend on the back. “Probably just a little tired.”

“Speaking of being tired, how are you feeling Dream?”

“Exhausted.” Dream sighed. “I had a bullshit sleep.”

“You should definitely sleep in the car then,” Karl said, before wrapping his arm around Dream’s shoulder. Sapnap joined them and they walked together towards the car, Dream’s suitcase rattling behind them. It was uncomfortable and sweaty, and Karl kept tripping over everyone’s legs, but it felt wonderful. 

This was the best day of Dream’s life.

—

Dream was flying

He’d left the ground far beneath him. He had wings, insect wings, transparent wings that gleamed in the sunlight. Dragonfly wings, flickering a myriad of colours.

He began to fly forwards, his wings humming. The ground moved along below him; sweeping golden hills, scrabbly patches of eucalypts and the crawling mess of a big city. 

Cars crawled below him like shiny beetles.  _ How funny, _ he thought to himself, watching them.  _ They’re so small _ .

The sunlight was warm on his cheeks. The air was sweet. It tasted like apricots. Dream stuck out his tongue, trying to taste the apricot air. The sensation floated for merely a second, before dissolving.  _ Why does it taste like apricots? _

There was a gentle growl in the distance. Dream turned. It was a plane, rushing through the sky. The sun reflected off its sleek body, almost blinding him for a second.  _ I reckon I could fly faster than it. _

He leant forward and felt his wings begin to move. The wind stung his eyes and filled his mouth as he accelerated. He was faster than the plane. He was invincible. 

He was over the ocean now; a sparkling mass of deep, deep blue, flecked with white waves. The plane had receded to merely a twinkling dot, almost invisible. The sky was empty. He was perfectly alone.

_ Dream!  _

The cry made him look upwards. George was flying towards him in a shimmer of dragonfly wings, waving excitedly and beaming. 

_ Hello, Dream! _

Dream smiled.  _ Hello _ .

George reached out, and wove his long fingers into Dream’s own.  _ Fly with me. _

They floated together, slower now, gliding over the endless ocean. The air felt damper. Dream’s wings felt heavier. The sky grew darker. 

There was a sudden crack, and the darkened sky split open. 

Everything stopped. 

And then with a rush, the rain came. It poured down from nowhere, surrounding him, filling his eyes. Dream tried to keep flying, but his wings were sodden. He was suspended for a moment, hanging in the dripping air, before he started to fall, dragging his friend with him. 

George gripped his hand tightly.  _ Dream? Are we falling? _

Dream didn’t know how to respond. He squeezed back as they began to tumble through the sky. 

_ Dream?!  _ George was yelling now. They clung to each other; wet, cold skin pressed together. Their wings hung useless, flimsy, forgotten. Dark, bottomless ocean rushed up to meet them.

George’s cries reverberated around his head.

_ Dream! Dream! Dream! _

More voices joined the chorus. The sound of rain roared through his ears.

“Dream!” Karl yelled, shaking Dream’s arm. “Wake up, idiot!”

Dream blinked. The rain had quietened to a steady rhythm, drumming on the roof of the car. His neck was hanging at a strange angle, and his throat stung from where the seat belt had rubbed into his skin. His wrist throbbed. He straightened up slowly, trying to work out where he was. 

George was sitting across from him, hugging his backpack to his chest, looking worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, what? I’m fine.” Dream lied. Cold sweat was running down his neck, and his legs were trembling slightly. “Just a weird dream, that’s all.”

“You sure?” Sapnap said, glancing at Dream through the rearview mirror. “You were shaking and stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m totally good.” Dream tried to reassure him. “Where the hell are we?”

“About two hours outside of Melbourne,” Karl replied, turning around from the shotgun seat to watch Dream. “I can’t believe you’re sleeping through the road trip.”

“I’m tired, okay?” Dream huffed, trying to shake out the pain in his neck. “You’ve all already been here for a couple of days.”

“Yeah, fair point,” Sapnap muttered. 

Dream closed his eyes, trying to flush the dream from his mind. George against his skin, his terrified screaming, the feeling of falling.

It was pouring with rain now. Karl had said that a massive storm had come while Dream had been asleep, and now the road was awash with water. A summer storm. They had those back in Florida. Back home. 

A pang of homesickness stung his chest for the first time. He missed the smell of his apartment, and the warm, disapproving voice of his mother. Their hug at the airport had been rushed, clumsy. He had been too excited, distracted, thinking about what would happen when he finally arrived in Australia. 

His head swam with tiredness, and his eyes hung heavy. He pressed his aching skull against the cool glass, watching the water streak past on the window, and the blurry mass of unfamiliar trees.

“Fuck this rain, man, I can’t see shit,” Sapnap exclaimed, slapping his hand against the steering wheel.

“Please don’t crash,” George said in a small voice. “Should we like, pull over, or something?”

“Yeah, I might,” Sapnap replied briskly. “There’s a gas station up there, and we need more gas so…”

George nodded. Dream glanced at him. He was hugging his backpack tightly and staring at the ground. Dream reached out a hand and rested it on his arm, trying to comfort him. 

George flushed. “I’m fine, Dream.”

“You sure?” 

He nodded and shook Dream’s hand away. 

Sapnap swerved into the gas station, almost taking out another car, and swearing colourfully in the process. Karl squealed and giggled while George looked ready to puke. 

“Karl, you and Sapnap go buy some food and get the gas.” Dream said while watching George’s face. “I’ll stay with George.”

“Right-o!” Karl cried. “Does anyone have an umbrella?”

“There’s one in the back, I’ll grab it,” Sapnap replied, opening the door and stepping out into the torrential rain. 

The silence was heavy. George was curled into his seat, his eyes closed. Dream unbuckled his seat and shuffled over until he was sitting next to him. “Hey, George, bud, it’s okay.”

George didn’t respond. Dream wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, feeling his warm body against his own. “Are you scared of the car?” 

“Yeah, that’s mainly it.” He nodded, his cheeks reddening again. 

“Mainly it?” Dream pressed. George squirmed slightly. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’m literally never driving so it freaks me out and the rain’s really heavy and…”

“What else is it though? You said that the car was mainly it.”

George didn’t reply. He shook Dream’s arm off and stared at the rain flecked window. The distant figures of Sapnap and Karl could be seen stumbling into the shop, trying to stay dry under the umbrella. 

“George.” Dream lowered his voice slightly, trying to prise a response from his silent friend. 

“Oh, Clay.” It was a breathy whisper, spoken slowly, as if he was savouring the words as they fell from his lips.

“What? Why are you calling me Clay?”

George suddenly turned, his eyes sparkling and his cheeks flushed. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, causing his collarbones to stick out in sharp relief against his pale skin. He stared at Dream for a second, almost manically, his fingers twisting in his lap. 

“Clay.” His voice was high and panicked. Tears glittered on his flaming cheeks. “Clay, I think I’m in love with you.”

The world fell away beneath Dream’s feet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. As always, feedback is appreciated :D


	4. Petrichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After George confesses, Dream struggles to come to terms with his own feelings. The road trip continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again so much for all the comments and feedback, it means a lot to me :)
> 
> Mild swearing in this chapter.

There was a terrible silence; a silence broken only by the steady drumming of rain on the car, and the scratchy whirring of the windscreen wipers. 

George’s words were spinning around Dream’s head, colliding with his skull and burning their way into his skin.  _ I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. _

Dream opened his mouth, tried to speak, but his throat was dry and his tongue felt thick and heavy. He swallowed, inhaled, and blinked. Shock was pouring through his veins and pooling in the pit of his stomach like molten lead.

Finally, he managed to form a word, and it stumbled from his lips, tripping over his teeth. “Wh— _ What _ ?”

George recoiled, as if Dream had spat poison at him. His flushed face was draining of its colour, paling into ashen-grey. He turned his eyes downwards, staring at something that wasn’t there.

Dream continued, words spilling from his mouth like vomit. “What? What do you  _ mean  _ you’re in love with me? How—why—what?  _ George _ !”

“I’m so sorry,” George mumbled. His voice was so tiny it could barely be heard above the rain.

A spark of frustration flickered inside Dream’s chest. “So, you’re dropping this on me now? Now? I’m fucking exhausted, as you can see, and you decide to just  _ admit your feelings  _ for me? And say ‘sorry’?  _ Sorry?  _ That’s all you can say?”

George didn’t look up. A single tear began to snake its way down his cheek, shining silver in the dim light. 

“You’ve only known me for, like,  _ an hour? _ ” The frustration was now an angry flame, licking at his ribs. He clenched his fists. Nails dug into his palms. “You’ve literally only seen me for the first time today and you just drop this fucking bombshell? Are you stupid? Are you insane? George!  _ Look at me!” _

The dark-haired man slowly raised his head, and for the second time in the space of a few minutes, Dream’s world collapsed again.

George’s face was haggard. His eyes were red and his skin was pale and scrunched together. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his breathing was fast, panicked. Air rushed in and out of his slightly opened lips, and his fingers were squirming. His tongue lolled from his mouth, and his eyelashes fluttered. 

“I’ve been in love with you for ages,” he choked, staring at Dream. “I’ve been in love with you ever since I met you. And today— today, when I saw you for the first time, when I  _ touched _ you for the first time, it just made me realise that I don’t think I can live without you.”

Dream swallowed, the burning anger in his chest slightly smothered. He opened his mouth to say something, but George moved closer and cut him off. 

“I thought—I thought that maybe, just maybe, you shared those feelings for me. All those late nights on the phone, all that teasing, all that  _ flirting _ !” His voice was climbing higher and higher, until he was nearly screaming into Dream’s face. “All that fucking flirting, Dream! You flirted with me all the time, and I thought it was real! You made me believe it was real! And it was all just a fucking lie.” 

“You thought it was real—?” Dream whispered.

“Yes! I did! I thought that maybe, deep down somewhere, you loved me back…”

George’s voice broke and trembled into silence. The rain had subsided slightly, and the rumble of the distant highway was now quietened. Dream exhaled shakily. George’s face was merely inches from his.  _ He has really long lashes _ , Dream thought to himself, watching as a tear trembled, caught between the dark strands. George’s lips fell apart slightly, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Dream thought he was going to kiss him. His heart thrummed. 

The car doors opened, and Sapnap and Karl tumbled in, dripping wet. George fell back and turned his gaze away, staring outside the window. Blood was pulsing through Dream’s veins, and guilt burnt in his eyes. 

“Is everything okay?” Karl asked, turning around to look into the back seats. “I bought some chocolate!”

-

The car pulled out of the gas station and began to drive through the now subsiding storm. Hunger gnawed in Dream’s chest, but the packet of M&Ms sat unopened next to him. He felt too sick to eat. 

_ George was in love with him? _ He couldn’t believe it. He had thought it was just some stupid game, some joke that kept running through their friendship. Dream had made so many pointless, reckless, almost insignificant comments about them being together. Little words that had been slipped into conversation on a stream, or whispered during a phone call late at night. He had no idea that George had been listening to him, holding on to the hope that they might be real, that they might have meant something. 

George didn’t speak for what felt like hours. He just stared out the window as the sky cleared and flecks of sunlight shone through the stormy clouds. Sapnap had been pointing out interesting things - a funny shaped rock, a kangaroo, cows, roadkill. There was a lot of roadkill. The dead, still bleeding, bodies of animals strewn on the side of the road, hit by cars as they sped through. 

Was this what his mother had been talking about? Her concern about George? Her slightly too curious questions? He thought about the letter she’d given him, and considered digging around in his backpack to retrieve it, but then remembered her words.  _ Open it when you need to _ . He didn’t need to open it, not yet. 

As the numbers on the green signs grew smaller and smaller, the shadows grew longer. The sun had now broken through the clouds with force, beaming warmth down on the car and making the road steam. They were surrounded by golden hills and endless stretches of nothingness. 

Except it wasn’t an endless stretch of nothingness.

A rusting building that had sunk into the ground. Patches of scratchy, silver eucalyptus. A forgotten church surrounded by silent poplars. A paddock purpled by Paterson’s Curse. Hills smudged yellow with Indian Mustard. The deep blue of a dam set into the rich red earth. 

Dream pressed his face up against the window, misting it with his slow breath.

George slipped in and out of a doze. Sapnap switched the radio on and off. Dream listened absently to the smatterings of conversation that crackled through the speakers, and the fragments of unfamiliar songs.

“I’m hungry,” Karl announced as the car began to drive past yet another small town.

“We literally just bought food,” Sapnap complained, slapping the empty bag of salt and vinegar chips that lay discarded next to him. “You can’t still be hungry.”

“I  _ am _ ,” Karl whined, making puppy dog eyes at Sapnap. “Please, can we stop and get some more food.”

“I don’t mind,” Dream muttered. “We’ve been driving for ages.”

“Oh, you guys,” Sapnap sighed, flicking the lever on the side of the steering wheel. The blinker began to flash with a smooth  _ click-tick _ , and the car pulled up outside a little shop with a peeling sign that read  _ Bakery _ . “Go get some food then.”

He pressed a pile of unfamiliar banknotes into Dream’s palm and cracked his knuckles. “Can you grab me a coffee?”

Dream nodded and opened his door, almost falling out onto the dusty car park. A strange bird squawked from high up in the trees, before leaping off and gliding away onto a distant powerline, its white wings clashing with the azure sky.

“Pretty.”

Dream spun around and saw George standing there, his hands in his pockets, staring up at the bird. 

“Nice of you to finally talk,” Dream remarked. George glared at him. 

Karl slammed the car door, and bounded over with an incredible amount of energy for someone who had been sitting in a car for three hours. “Why does it smell so nice?”

Dream inhaled deeply, and his eyes widened. “You’re right, what the hell?”

The air smelt fresh, clean and sweet and distinctly earthy. A slight breeze ripped through the leaves of the towering eucalyptus trees, causing forgotten raindrops to sparkle onto their faces. The sunlight rippled, gleaming through the branches.

“It’s called petrichor,” George mumbled in a small voice.

“Nice of you to finally talk,” Karl also remarked. George rolled his eyes and kicked a rock with his foot.

“What did you say again?” Dream asked.

“Petrichor,” he repeated, kicking another rock. “It’s, like, the smell of rain.”

“Oh, that has a  _ name _ ?” Karl exclaimed. “Where’d you learn that?”

George shrugged. “I don’t know. I read it somewhere, I guess.”

There was a whirring sound as Sapnap rolled down his window. “Hurry up! I’m going to go take a piss!”

Karl giggled, and wrapped his arms around Dream and George’s shoulders, squeezing them into his body. “Let’s go get some  _ food!” _

—

“What the  _ honk _ ?” Karl exclaimed as he buckled his seatbelt and passed four, warm paper bags around the car. “Australians have such  _ weird _ food.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Sapnap asked, peering into his paper bag. “That’s a pie.”

“No, but, it’s like, meat!” Karl cried, poking his pie with his index finger as if it was some strange, alien creature. “Why is it meat?”

“Ewwww!” Dream groaned, peeling off the pastry lid and inspecting the brown, sludgy interior. Steam gushed out, making his nose burn slightly.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Sapnap yelped, almost dropping his pie onto his lap. “My mouth! It’s so HOT!”

Karl erupted into squeals of laughter, watching Sapnap fan his mouth and stick his tongue out, trying to cool it. Dream tentatively bit into his and chewed slowly. Little bits of gristle crunched under his teeth and the boiling gravy burnt his tongue. He swallowed, scrunched up his nose, and considered the strange taste. It was definitely too salty, and the pasty was way too soft, and he highly doubted there was any actual meat in it, but somehow, he found himself enjoying it. Karl and Sapnap, on the other hand, had both slipped theirs back into the paper bags, grimacing. 

“They’re really not that bad,” George had smiled, popping the last little bit of pastry into his mouth.

Karl shook his head violently. “Kinda weirdchamp.”

Sapnap turned the key in the ignition, and the car grumbled into life.

“Only an hour to go guys, we can do it.”

The car swung out onto the gleaming highway.

Silence fell again. Karl started poking through the glove box. Sapnap drummed on the steering wheel. Dream stretched and yawned. The sun was beginning to sink into the mountainous horizon. His head was aching and his mind was still buzzing from the events of the day. He wanted nothing more than to be able to close his eyes and tumble into a dark, deep sleep.

“Hey look, what on earth is that?”

Dream looked up. Karl was pointing out the window at something. 

“Jesus Christ, that’s so weird,” Sapnap muttered.

It was a massive expanse of flat, dry grass, surrounded on every side by pale hills. A wind farm loomed ominously in the distance, the white blades spinning slowly in the slight evening breeze. Cows wandered along aimlessly through the patches of sheep.

“Hey, there’s  _ supposed  _ to be water there,” Karl squinted at his phone, scrolling through a map and scrunching his nose. “It’s supposed to be a lake.”

“Huh?” Dream said absently, pressing his face against the window as the car whirred past. “Yeah, there’s definitely no water.”

“Yoo!” Karl exclaimed, turning his head to look into the back. “Guess what it’s called!”

“What?” Sapnap asked, glancing at his friend.

“Lake George! They named it after you, George!”

George cracked a smile and shook his head. “Yeah, right.”

“No! It is actually called Lake George.”

“Really?” George raised his eyebrows. “There are a lot of things named after Georges though, so it’s not that special.”

“Uhh, there’s, like, a rest area thing over there if you want to stop and have a look,” Sapnap suggested, pointing to a small building. 

Karl nodded, and the car pulled into the little carpark, gravel crunching under the tyres. Sapnap came to a jerking halt and Karl sloshed a bottle of water down his front. “Sapnap, what is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

They all gingerly climbed out of the car, and Dream arched his back, and grinning at the satisfying  _ crack  _ as his bones readjusted themselves. 

The sun had set below the steep cliffs behind them, and the faraway hills were tinged with pink. The air still smelt like —  _ what was the word George had used? —  _ petrichor, and the highway roared behind them. A black and white bird scuttled past his feet. 

Dream leant against the railing, wrapping his good hand around the cool metal, sighing deeply. The slipping sun was causing the sinister lake to shadow. He suddenly became aware of George standing next to him, and felt a shiver of awkwardness. 

Sapnap and Karl moved away, Karl pointing at the cows and talking excitedly, leaving Dream alone with George for the first time since the gas station. George seemed painfully aware of this, and he stared pointedly out at the empty lake.

Dream watched him carefully, studying his face. His eyes traced the slope of his nose, and swept across his tense jawline, and up to his lips —

“Stop staring at me,” George said flatly.

“I wasn’t—” Dream stuttered, feeling suddenly embarrassed. He quickly turned his gaze to the patch of cows standing below them. “Hey, look at the cows.”

“If you want to talk about cows, go talk to Karl.” George snapped. Dream was taken aback. George was rarely angry, and never snapped at anyone, especially him. 

“George, please don’t be cross,” Dream tried again, softening his voice and looking nervously at the man standing next to him. The man folded his arms and pursed his lips together, avoiding eye contact. “Please…”

“What do you expect me to be? Delighted? Happy?” George’s words were laced with spite. “I’m completely in love with someone, and they flat out reject me, call me an idiot, and then get surprised when I’m mad.”

“I didn’t—” Dream spluttered.

“Oh, yes you did,” George spat. “Yes, you did.”

“Oh, George!” Dream cried, searching desperately for words to appease his friend. “I never actually  _ rejected _ you, y'know?” 

George’s eyes widened. Dream glanced over at him, watching as his lips parted subtly and the tension in his jaw disappeared. He lifted a pale hand up to his mouth and nibbled on his knuckle, exhaling shakily. 

Dream bit his lip. Butterflies were stirring in his chest, fluttering and messing with the rhythm of his heart.  _ Why did he say that?!  _

George gently looked up at Dream, who stared back into his deep brown eyes. For a heartbeat, Dream again had that fleeting impression that George was about to kiss him. He began to close his eyes, subconsciously anticipating the feeling of soft lips against his own—

“Well, you basically did anyway,” George huffed. 

Dream blinked. “Did what?”

“Rejected me.” 

Dream shook himself, trying to erase the thought of George kissing him from his mind. He shouldn’t—he  _ didn’t _ like it. It was nasty, gross, uncomfortable. Why would he think about kissing his best friend? 

George shrugged and started to walk away to join the others. Dream swallowed, and continued staring out at the empty, waterless lake. A slender moon had risen in the blushing sky, and the first, tiny star was twinkling in the misty blue. Pebble coloured cumulus clouds frilled around the distant mountains. Planes cut through the sky above, leaving a patchwork of fiery trails that slowly evaporated into the evening air. 

A car door slammed. 

“Hurry up, Dream!” Sapnap yelled, waving his hand. “Let’s go!”

Dream scampered back to the car and leant back into his seat. The imagined pressure of George’s lips was still lingering on his own, and no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to squash the memory, they still left a whispered trace. 

He sighed deeply, and felt the car glide onwards under the great dome of darkening sky, glittering with twilight stars. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!!


End file.
